


Law of Roses

by leftdragonpainter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Always, Aurors, Blaise is a little shit, Blaise slightly redeems himself, Canon Compliant, EWE, Eventual Smut, F/M, Forced Marriage, Happy Ending, Masturbation, Mild Language, Romance, Ron's an ass, Smut, St Mungo's Hospital, Triggers, apparently, but then, marriage law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:11:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 17,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6406369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftdragonpainter/pseuds/leftdragonpainter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years after the Battle of Hogwarts the Ministry of Magic is forcing unwed witches and wizards to marry in order to boost the magical population. Hermione Granger has been matched with, much to both their chagrin, Draco Malfoy. They either must fall in with the Ministry's plans or be forced to spend the rest of their days in Azkaban.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not JK Rowling... I'd be far richer than I am now.

She couldn’t believe that she was back. Or rather _forced_ to come back. She had hoped that she would never lay eyes on the place again.

Hermione Granger stared up at the mansion in front of her. If it had been any other of the exact style, she might have found the building beautiful. But it wasn’t any other mansion. It was _theirs_.

She shook her head, still not quite believing what she was being forced to do. Hell, what it seemed they were all being forced to do. But once again the Ministry had found yet another dumb idea and had run with it, once they found a way to control everyone into falling in line.

In the back of her mind she briefly wondered how hard it would be to start another revolution.

She doubted that she would be able to talk Harry or the Weasley tribe into it however. They were all still drained from the last one.

As was she.

Hermione tightened her grip on her beaded purse as the front door to the Malfoy Manor opened.

 

Draco stared blindly into the flames dancing in the fireplace, trying to place himself into an hypnotic state. Today was the day, the day he desperately wished wasn’t happening. But he had no choice. It was either face what was coming or end up in Azkaban.

In his cowardess, Draco wasn’t sure which future might be worse.

“Draco?” Narcissa knocked softly on the door of his bedroom. “She’s here.”

Sighing, he stood and ran a hand through his platinum blond hair in an attempt to straighten the mess of locks. He didn’t know why he bothered. It wasn’t as though he was trying to impress anyone in particular. Opening the door, he spoke to his mother. “Why should that concern me? The papers have been signed. And there is nothing in them that requires me to actually speak with her.”

“She’s your wife now, Draco.” Narcissa chided.

“Only because the Ministry demanded it.” Draco argued. “Besides, I know Granger. I’m the last person that she even wants to see, let alone be married to. Not after what happened.”

Narcissa nodded her understanding, remembering well what her sister had done to the girl. “Maybe this will be a way to start to make amends.”

Draco rolled his eyes. It would never happen, Gryffindor’s were a stubborn lot. And Granger was a Gryffindor down to her marrow. He wasn’t fool enough to ever expect Granger to forgive his family (or him) for the roles they played in the war.

He couldn’t even forgive himself.

“Come. We shouldn’t leave her alone with your father.” Narcissa turned and began to walk away.

Draco panicked. “You left her alone with Father? They’ll kill each other!”

Running as though the Dark Lord was chasing him, Draco raced to the study, stopping short at the scene in front of his eyes.

 

Hermione stared down at the man as he snored loudly in the chair. He looked worse than he had at the end of the battle, she thought. The once elegant man she had met briefly in Borgin & Burkes years ago had disappeared entirely. He had been replaced with a shabby, unshaven waste of a man. If the empty bottle of Firewhiskey hanging from his limp hand or the stench emanating off of him hadn’t clued her in to the fact he was now a drunk, his sickly yellow pallor would have.

She didn’t know if she felt pity, disgust or even a slight amount of relief as she stared down at Lucius Malfoy. The two years in Azkaban had been hard on him it seemed, and the last year hadn’t been much more of an improvement.

A small voice whispered in the back of her mind that now would be the perfect opportunity to get rid of the man once and for all.

She pushed that thought away. She had no more fight left in her, and certainly not enough to waste on the drunk before her. Sighing, she magicked a blanket, and swung it across the older Malfoy.

“Granger?”

Hermione turned to look over at Draco standing wide-eyed in the doorway. If she had been in the right frame of mind, she would have laughed at his confused expression. Instead, she frowned. “What?”

“You didn’t kill him did you?” He glared as he stomped over to her. Though his long-limbed glide could hardly be defined as a stomp, the intent was there.

“It’d be an odd quirk to cover him with a blanket if I had.” She rolled her eyes.

“You’d better not try anything foolish Granger. I can assure you that it won’t be tolerated,” he fumed.

Before she could respond in kind, Lucius shifted in the chair and muttered in his sleep. “…no mudbloods here… not to Draco…”

Sighing, Hermione straightened and went over to him, her _husband_. She frowned at the thought. If anyone had told her at any point back when she was in school that Draco Malfoy was going to be her husband… But it didn’t matter now. They had to follow through with this or the Ministry would take action. Even after all that had happened, the government was still slow to change. It was almost as though they had regressed yet again out of fear.

But really, what was left?

“So,” she started, looking up at him. “Are you going to show me around? I’ve already seen the drawing room.”

Her acid tone as she said this made Draco cringe. He knew exactly to what she was referring. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room. You have free range to explore on your own time.”

Following close behind him as he walked down the hallway, then turned up the stairs, Hermione sneered mildly. “Aren’t you afraid of me stumbling across one of your Dark Arts lairs?”

Draco stopped and spun to face her. Angrily he spoke in a cold voice. “For your information, the Ministry raids my home every month to make sure we don’t have any more Dark objects. By the time Mother and I have it cleaned up, they show up and destroy it all again. But please, if you think that _you_ would be able to find anything, go right ahead and search!”

Hermione stood her ground. In the back of her mind she recalled Harry mentioning that the Auror office did monthly raids on certain houses. She just assumed that it would be different ones each month. Not the same house every month. Swallowing, she said. “So where is this room of mine?”

He blinked and thinned his lips so much that they seemed to disappear entirely. Turning he stomped away from her. “When your things arrive they will be sent to your room.”

“I already have all of my things.” Hermione held up her purse when he looked questioningly back at her. At his raised brow she explained with a shrug. “Undetectable extension charm.”

Draco, despite himself, was impressed. Granted they had been out of school a long while now and they both had been taught the same amount of spells, yet she managed to surprise him. That particular charm was immensely complicated, even for practiced wizards, yet she shrugged it off like it was an everyday occurrence. For Hermione, it probably was.

Deciding that the best response was not to give her one, Draco walked the rest of the way to her room in silence.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not JKR still...  
> *****  
> Special thanks to my friend Sara for the brilliant title suggestion. Frankly the title was the only thing stopping me from posting this. I suck at titles. :)

The first four days passed relatively quickly. And quietly. The Malfoys – she refused to consider herself one – took to avoiding Hermione and she them. They only interacted as much as was necessary, mainly only when Hermione wanted to know where something was, like the kitchen.

Hermione had no clue as to what the others did throughout the day, except for Lucius who she knew did nothing but drink it seemed. She remained firmly locked in her bedroom by her own magic, reading each day.

By day five, she had grown bored beyond belief. Part of the Marriage Law was that the couple must remain under the same roof for the entire first month, all in the effort for the couple to know one another. She knew Draco Malfoy well enough to know she didn’t want to learn him any better. But the law meant that they couldn’t go to work or even visit other couples stuck in this scenario.

Not that any of Hermione’s friends were stuck in _this_ particular hell. Harry had married Ginny well over a year ago, and George Weasley had wed Angelina Johnson over two. They got to choose their partners out of love, not blackmailed into a corner by the government to reproduce magical offspring.

Which was never going to happen.

Now that she thought about it, Ron might well be in the same situation. After their break-up they had avoided each other. That included any mention of the other from their friends. For all she knew he had been forced into a sham marriage as well.

Growing tired of her own thoughts, she set off in search of a ferret to annoy.

Taking her time to wander around the Malfoy Manor, Hermione observed how empty and desolate it was. No portraits on the walls or much in the way of furniture within the rooms she peeked into.

“Blasted mudblood…” Draco’s voice came from a room down the hallway. Hermione crept closer to listen at the slightly ajar door.

*****

“Blasted mudblood…” Draco practiced again in front of his standing mirror. He shook his head in resignation. No matter how much he repeated it, it didn’t sound right.

“Filthy mudblood,” the words rolled off his tongue with as much venom he could muster. He sneered at his reflection. It was pointless, even he could see that it looked absolutely fake.

It was.

Draco’s shoulders slumped. After watching Granger, and others, tortured in front of his eyes and had seen what _true_ hate and evil looked like, that part of him had pretty much vanished. Not that he didn’t want Granger to ever know that. She would never let him live it down.

Hence the reason he was now practicing insults. He chuckled as a thought occurred to him. “Hell, Granger would probably be more offended if I complimented her.”

“Hell, ferret. I’d be offended if you called me Hermione.”

Spinning around, Draco saw Granger standing in the door frame to his room. She crossed her arms and laughed at his expression. “I always assumed that you practiced those insults in front of a mirror. Glad to know that I was right.”

“Well, you can’t rush perfection,” Draco responded easily, then added, “… _Hermione._ ”

She met his silver eyes briefly, then continued to walk around his room. Her fingers trailed over his desk, and picked up the book sitting on top to read the cover. She smirked when she saw that it was _Quidditch Through the Ages_.

“So,” after several silent moments, she turned to him, “this is your room.”

“Not what you were expecting?” he asked.

“Just a little disappointed that there’s no bats hanging from the ceiling,” she joked.

“As opposed to the fairies hanging from yours?”

They grinned fleetingly at each other.

“So what brings you out of hiding, Granger? I figured that I was going to be lucky enough not to see that bushy hair of yours this entire month.” Draco leaned against the footboard of his bed. Crossing both arms and legs, he stared at the Gryffindor with a penetrating gaze.

“I was bored.” Hermione answered honestly. “Plus, I figured we’d try to make the best of this situation. I know I for one do not want to end up in Azkaban.”

Malfoy remained silent. For a moment Hermione took in his somber expression, before recalling that he had been to the wizard prison. He had been placed there for two months after the war, while awaiting his turn at a trial. She was certain that if Harry hadn’t spoken on his behalf, Draco might still be wasting away in a cell on the impenetrable island.

Belatedly she said, “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

He waved her apology away. Every day he tried to block out the memories of that horrible place. He doubted he’d ever forget. Desperate screaming, pathetic whimpering echoing around him from the other prisoners, and a hollowness that had slowly begun to eat away at his soul. Everyday he had tried to block the noise out, focusing on anything else. “Doesn’t matter. We just have to make it through the rest of the month. Then you can go back to your life and I can go back to mine like nothing’s changed.”

“Except for the fact that we’re married.” Hermione clarified.

“Except for that,” he nodded. Five years was going to be a long time to be married to Granger.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the fabulous JKR

By the end of the second week, they had already fallen into a routine. Avoid each other until lunch, then argue with each other until dinner. Though the fights they wound up having were more like passionately debating about issues than they were calling each other names as they had back at Hogwarts.

Despite herself, Hermione grew to look forward to those talks with Malfoy. It was surprisingly pleasant to have someone to talk with that could keep up with her intellectually. Ron was never able to, Ginny always got bored of whatever subject Hermione rambled on about, and Harry, bless him, could keep up but just never had the same level of enthusiasm that held her.

At the end of the week, Hermione found herself smiling as she set off to eat lunch with Malfoy. Just as she made it to the smaller dining room, the front door was blasted back off its hinges. She screamed as Malfoy ran out into the hall, his wand raised.

He placed himself in front of Hermione as the Aurors strode over the broken remains of the door. Dust settled as the tallest one sneered and said, “Well, well Malfoy. Have you been behaving yourself this month? I… _Hermione?_ ”

Hermione placed a hand on Malfoy’s shoulder as she stepped out from behind him. She knew that voice as well as her own. Hands on hips, she glared up at the Auror. “Ronald Weasley! How dare you destroy a person’s home for no reason! Blasting doors off hinges? Why I never. I’ve a good mind to tell your mother about this. Now put that door back as it was, this instant.” She stomped her foot.

Ron swallowed, his eyes wide and terrified, and his face as red as his hair. Behind him, the junior Auror’s snickered. Clearing his throat, he said. “It’s my job to search the Manor, ‘Mione. It seems that I came just in time to rescue you from this miscreant as well.”

He reached for her arm, but Hermione stepped back. She shocked everyone when she defiantly said. “Rescue me? From my husband? Are you mad?”

Ron froze. With a confused frown, he asked dumbly. “Husband?”

Draco stepped forward and placed a hand on the small of Hermione’s back. “That’s right, Weasle. Husband. As in Hermione is _my_ wife. Now if you don’t mind, you’ve rudely interrupted our lunch.”

As though Ron’s face couldn’t possibly get any redder, he exploded. “ _What the sodding hell do you mean Hermione’s your wife!?_ How could you be married to this beast?”

“Calm down, Ronald. Honestly.” Hermione crossed her arms in exasperation. His constant surges in temper had always been draining, even now. “If you can’t behave with even a modicum of decency, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Ron’s mouth gaped open. His eyes shot between the two of them. Malfoy had a smirk, and Hermione appeared weary. She hadn’t removed Malfoy’s hand from her back, in fact she seemed to lean into it. Ron glared. “This isn’t over, Malfoy.”

With that he stomped out, junior Aurors following at his heels.

“Well that was unpleasant.” Draco said dryly behind her shoulder.

“And unexpected.” Hermione nodded, pulling out her wand. With a flick of her wrist, the front door was back where it was before the disruption. “So, lunch?”

Draco nodded and gestured to the dining room. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

“For what?” Hermione looked up at his profile as she sat down at the table. The house-elves had made yet another one of Hermione’s favourites for lunch, chicken salad made with grapes and apples and a side of arugula salad. But she didn’t notice, being too focused on Draco’s weary expression.

He sat down next to her and sighed. Avoiding her eyes, he pretended to concentrate on the food before him. “For handling Weasle like you did. For getting him to leave. Normally the Aurors are here for several hours tossing the place, looking for anything they can use as an excuse to throw my family back into Azkaban. This was the quickest they’ve ever left.”

Hermione was shocked. From what Draco was saying, this happened every month, probably for years. Why did he put up with it? Another part of her wondered why Harry was letting this happen. Did he even know? “I- I’m sorry, Draco. Truly.”

“I hate to say but I’ve gotten used to it.” He ignored her apology, taking a bite of the chicken salad sandwich. He had to admit that the menu the house-elves had been preparing since Granger’s arrival was a definite step up from their usual fare.

“No.”

Finally he looked at her, arching his brow. “No?”

“You shouldn’t have to be _used_ to it, for Merlin’s sake. No one should.” She shook her head, frustrated. “The war has been over for four years. You’ve proven that you aren’t dark anymore. You shouldn’t have to be forced – to be treated like this. When this month is over, I’m going to stomp right down to Harry’s office and _demand_ that this stop. It’s unlawful, immoral.”

Draco watched as Granger worked herself up over the situation. At first he was taken aback that she would even care about what was happening. It wouldn’t effect her after all; she would be moving back to her apartment after the month was done. By the end of her tirade though, he was chuckling.

“What? Why are you laughing?” Huffing out a breath she brushed her honey brown hair back from her face.

“I was just thinking that this whole marriage situation could have been avoided if you had that much anger about how wrong that is. But no, you’re wasting all that passion on _my_ home being raided every month. You truly are something, Granger.” He said laughing.

*****

Ron threw his work robes across the room. His small apartment was dark and empty. He couldn’t believe it. Hermione, beautiful, wonderful Hermione. And that… _FERRET_.

Picking up the nearest thing he could find, he threw that too. Glass shards rained down as the picture frame ricocheted off the wall.

Realizing what he had done, Ron knelt to pick up the photo out of the glass. Hermione looked up at him from the moving photograph, silently shouting at him for throwing her. Not caring that he sat in broken glass, he fell back and asked the replica. “Gawd, Hermione. Of all people, why’d it have to be him?”

*****


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not JKR

A few nights later Hermione sat up in her bed doing some ‘light’ reading. She had done a small charm to produce floating white-blue lights around her. The rain storm outside picked up, the wind sending branches violently against the side of the Manor.

Just as she was settling back into the pillows to enjoy the storm, a knock sounded on her bedroom door. Getting up, she cracked it open an inch. Her eyes widened when she saw that it was Narcissa Malfoy. “Mrs. Malfoy?”

“Hermione. I’m so glad you’re still awake. I didn’t know what else to do.” Narcissa stepped into the bedroom. She was wearing her robe, and her hair was up in a braid. Worriedly, she twisted her hands.

“Mrs. Malfoy, what is it?” Hermione frowned. She knew something bad had to have happened to have brought the Malfoy matriarch to her door.

“It’s Lucius. He’s – he’s…” Narcissa choked as she tried to speak. “I think he drank too much. I don’t know how to make the potion to stop alcohol poisoning. I’ve never needed to use it before.”

Hermione frowned. “Why don’t you take him to St. Mungo’s?”

“They won’t treat him,” she said simply.

Hermione nodded. Deciding quickly, she went to get her purse. She knew what potion was needed. Unfortunately she didn’t have one made. It would have to be made from scratch, and that would take some time. “Okay. Take me to him.”

Narcissa’s shoulders slumped in relief. She lead Hermione down to the study, where Lucius was passed out face down on the floor. Hermione knelt to check on him. He was far worse than Narcissa had lead her to believe. “How long has he been like this?”

“I don’t know. I just found him. I tried to wake him, but he wouldn’t respond.” Narcissa answered, her voice betraying her worry over her husband.

“Help me roll him over.” Once they shifted him, Hermione said. “It’s going to take a while to make the potion. But I have to stop the poisoning in the meanwhile. Do you trust me?”

Narcissa paused as she thought. Hermione had no reason to trust them, and she had no reason to trust the Gryffindor. But she knew that she had to, she had no other options. She nodded briefly.

Pointing her wand at the man laying on the ground, Hermione said. “ _Petrificus Totalis_.”

Before she could explain why she had done that spell, Draco charged in. He wore only his pajama bottoms and an angry expression. Waving his own wand, he shouted. “What the hell are you doing Granger?”

“I’m trying to save your father’s life!” She ignored his wand and grabbed her purse. Pulling out all of the ingredients needed, she began to put the potion together. “He’s got alcohol poisoning. Petrifying him was the only thing that will stop it from spreading. Now if you don’t mind I need to make this potion to reverse the effects.”

Draco lowered his wand when he saw his mother nodding to what Hermione was saying. Silently he watched for several minutes as she prepared the potion that would save his father. Of course she would know how to make it. He was just shocked that she would bother.

Finally, it was ready. Hermione reversed the spell on Lucius. “Draco, hold him up would you? He needs to drink this.”

He did as she asked. But when she tried to put the vial to his lips, Lucius jerked his head away, muttering, “Filthy mudblood…”

“Here.” Narcissa grabbed the vial from Hermione and forced it down her husband’s throat. “Drink it, damn you.”

He choked on it, but swallowed. After a minute he came to, almost fully sober. Looking around, and seeing everyone –including the mudblood- sitting around him, Lucius asked. “What happened?”

“You nearly drank yourself to death, dear.” Narcissa said coldly, standing.

Draco stood as well before helping Hermione gather up her things. “Hermione saved your life, Father.”

“The mudblood saved my life?” he scoffed. “Doubtful.”

“And yet true.” Draco said.

Hermione took her purse from Draco’s outstretched hand. She wasn’t expecting a thank you from the man. Frankly, if Narcissa hadn’t looked so forlorn when she had asked for Hermione’s assistance, she might have let the older Malfoy die in his own vomit.

Sometimes she really hated being the bigger person.

“Well,” she nodded to the group. “I’ll say goodnight.”

“I’ll walk you back to your room.” Draco said, and followed her out of the room.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not JKR  
> *****  
> Remember to leave kudos and comments! It always puts a smile on my face when I see my writing appreciated!  
> *****

“You know, Granger?” Twirling his wand in his hand, Draco strolled slowly beside Hermione. He glanced down at her petite form. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she wore a black tank and sweats. “This really needs to stop.”

“What does?” she asked as she tried to keep pace with his long strides.

“You putting me in positions where I have to thank you. It’s frankly uncomfortable.” Draco smirked.

“Well, the next time your mother comes to ask me for help because your father is dying, I’ll send her your way instead. You’re just as capable as I am at potions. You wouldn’t mess it up too badly I’m sure.” Hermione joked. She looked over at him, perhaps for the first time that night noticing what he wore.

Practically nothing.

She swallowed, hating that she noticed how toned he now was. He had filled out a bit since they left school, but was still quite lean. And pale. Merlin, he was pale!

“See something you like, Granger?” Draco grinned knowingly.

“Not at all,” she answered. “I was just thinking you should go out into the sun more. You’re so pale you could scare vampires away.”

They reached her door. They stood in front of it awkwardly for a moment, not knowing what to say or even if they should say anything at all.

For a brief moment he wanted to reach out, touch her arm, to say thanks. Instead he settled on, “Well then. Rest well,” before he turned to go back to his room.

He didn’t know that Hermione’s eyes followed him as he walked away. He didn’t know that her head cocked to the side as she admired his stride and the fit of his silk pajama bottoms. He didn’t see as she shook herself from her trance, and mutter as she hid away in her room.

*****

Ron Weasley stomped into the Aurors offices the following day. He ignored everyone as he made for Harry’s office. Not bothering to even knock, Ron opened the door and growled out. “How could you bloody well not tell me?”

Harry glanced up from his paperwork, and shoved his smudged glasses back up his nose. Frowning, he asked. “Not tell you what, exactly?”

“That Hermione is married to that, that… _ferret!_ ” Ron shouted. Outside of Harry’s office, the rest of the Auror Department went quiet.

Standing, Harry went and closed the door to his office. Turning to his best friend, he asked calmly. “Say what now?”

“Hermione, _my_ Hermione is married to Malfoy. That annoying prat of a Slytherin.”

“I thought that you were dating Lavender again?” Harry asked.

“I am. But that’s not the point. Stay focused, mate.” Ron ran a hand through his short red hair. “Didn’t you hear me? Our Hermione is married to Draco Malfoy. Ugh, why didn’t you just leave him to rot in Azkaban when you had the chance?”

“Hermione is married to Draco?” Harry repeated. True, he hadn’t heard from the female end of their Golden Trio in a few weeks, but he had been away on a project in the Brazilian rainforests and out of contact with almost everyone. “When did this happen?”

“I’ve no idea.” Ron answered. “I just went to Malfoy Manor to raid like I do every month, and there she was saying she’s married to the great bouncing git. Maybe she’s been Imperio’d?”

“Hermione’s too smart to let herself get Imperio’d, let alone by Draco. I doubt that – Wait a minute, what do you mean you went to raid Malfoy Manor? That’s only been authorized to be done once, two years ago, which I performed myself. Ron?” Harry prodded when his friend looked away sheepishly.

Finally, he looked up and shrugged. “It’s just the ferret’s house. Little pay back is all. No one was ever hurt.”

Harry took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Closing his eyes, he said. “Okay, here is what we are going to do. First off, no more raiding without me present. Second, no more raiding the Malfoy’s, period. No arguments. Third, you are now on desk duty until I say otherwise.”

Ron knew he had put his foot in it this time. Harry hardly, if ever, went into ‘boss mode’ with him. Still he said, “But Harry…”

“Finally,” Harry cut him off. “I will see what I can find out about this whole marriage situation. Until we know anything, or see that she is, in fact, in trouble, we leave Hermione alone. She can handle herself.”

As Ron went to back to his desk, Harry let himself take a deep breath. He knew exactly why Hermione and Draco were married. The Ministry mandated Marriage Law. He also knew why Ron didn’t know anything about it. Auror’s were exempt according to the fine print, and only to be paired off in a worst case scenario. Even though it had been in all the papers since it’s inception, once Ron had heard that he was excluded from it, it was forgotten immediately.

That’s how his friend had always been. If it didn’t effect him personally, he paid no notice.

Harry wondered how long he could keep it from Ron that he knew all along about Hermione’s marriage. Granted, he wasn’t thrilled that he had missed being there for his best friend. At least he could be there for her now, however she needed.

Sitting back at his desk he tried to focus on the piles of paperwork that had expanded in his absence.

And not on the burning need to check on his ‘sister’ and her new husband.

*****

Harry needn’t have worried. Over the next week, life at the Manor had taken on a new energy.

The day after Hermione had helped save Lucius, Narcissa had taken it upon herself to attempt a civility with her daughter-in-law, mainly by asking for her input on decorating the Manor itself.

“You will be living here for a while. You should feel at home.” Narcissa stated.

 _I know one room I will never feel at home in,_ Hermione thought. “Oh, I…”

“I have been thinking that we should tear down the west wing completely. Full remodel. Perhaps put in a indoor muggle pool. Or a library. What do you think?” Narcissa said over breakfast.

Hermione and Draco both froze, trying not to look at each other. The west wing was where Voldemort’s followers had taken residence back in the war, where the dungeon was that had held so many people and creatures captive.

Where the drawing room was where Hermione had been tortured.

Hermione looked at the older woman. What she saw there surprised her. Narcissa was offering an olive branch, offering this as an apology. Hermione suddenly felt pressure build up behind her eyes. Her voice thick, she managed to get out. “That… that sounds like a wonderful idea, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Narcissa,” the older woman corrected, a slight smile curving her lips. “I insist.”

“Narcissa.” Hermione nodded. “Perhaps the new wing could have larger windows. I’m sure the view from that side of the house is spectacular.”

“Oh, indeed it is. Why back when I first…”

 


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not the fabulous JKR  
> *****

As his mother droned on about how life at the Manor once was, Draco kept his eyes fixed on Hermione. He knew what she was feeling right in that moment. Hell, he was experiencing the same thing. Just the very idea that something so terrible would be torn down, a place that had been the setting of so much pain, that it would be replaced by something so simple as a library was a heady thought indeed.

It could be a fresh start.

Draco watched as Hermione quietly ate her meal, letting Narcissa carry on the majority of the conversation. From the corner of his eye, he caught her glance at him. He raised the corner of his mouth, and nodded, validating that he knew how she was feeling.

Upended.

With just those few words from his mother and a small acceptance from Granger, Draco felt as though an immense weight lifted from him, taking away a burden that he hadn’t realized he had been carrying with him for so long.

*****

The tear down of the west wing was completed within a day, thanks to magic. Draco was convinced that if it had been done the muggle way, they would be drowning in rubble dust for months, if not years. But by the end of the day every inch was gone, from the attics to the dungeons. He was positive that his ancestors who had built Malfoy Manor were now rolling in their tombs at the thought of a remodel.

Especially one being done to please his muggle-born wife.

His mother and Granger went over ideas, and color samples for the next few days. While Narcissa was overly-enthused by the project, his… wife –he still had problems with the concept- merely went through the motions. He really should tell his mother that Hermione Granger… Malfoy wasn’t that type of girl. She preferred to bury her nose in books, not in decorating pamphlets.

Four days after the incident with his father, Draco was enjoying a book in the conservatory that was connected to the house. While the room no longer held plants, it was secluded and his family tended to leave him be. He sat on the day bed, feet propped up, reading glasses on the bridge of his nose when Granger rushed in.

“I can’t do it!”

“Do what?” Draco sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He took off his glasses and set them on top of the book beside him.

“I know that your mother is trying to be nice, but if I look at another paint sample or brocade fabric pattern, I’m going to scream!” In frustration, Hermione flopped down on the daybed beside him. Laying back she covered her face with her hands letting out a muffled “Ugh!”

“This isn’t screaming?” Draco raised an eyebrow, amused.

Hermione removed her hands and shot him a disgusted look. “She just doesn’t seem to get that I will be leaving in a few days. Can’t you talk to her?”

 _Are you kidding me?_ The look he gave her said it all. Instead he admitted. “Honestly I’ve been wanting to tear down that part of the house for years now.”

“So why didn’t you?” Curious, Hermione sat up. They sat almost shoulder to shoulder, but with their height difference she still had to look up a bit.

“I’m not sure. Perhaps I… _we_ didn’t have the right motivation.” Draco said softly. His eyes met hers. Something was changing between them. At least for him something was changing.

Draco studied her face. Heart-shaped and surrounded by her lioness mane, she had a pert little nose that scrunched up when she frowned, cupid’s bow pink lips and honey eyes that seemed to pierce into his soul. Had they always done that?

“And you have the right motivation now?”

Her question made him flinch. “What?”

Hermione gazed at him, mildly amused. “I asked what finally motivated you?”

Draco froze, unable to put into words what he was thinking, feeling in that moment. “Nothing,” he answered and hoped that she would just let it rest.

She did. Hermione knew they were treading in waters they hadn’t yet tested. She felt a pull to lean into him that she had never thought she would feel for Draco Malfoy. Best to ignore it, she thought. Instead, she decided to change the subject. “So, what are you reading?”

“Nothing,” he responded swiftly, his pale face pink with embarrassment.

“Really?” She turned her disbelieving gaze on him. “That doesn’t look like a picture book, and I know that you can read.”

“Really. It’s nothing.” He insisted holding it away from her when she reached out for it.

Undeterred, she leapt across his lap to reach for the book. Hermione squealed as he wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her back. She was plastered on top of him, stretching for the book held aloft in his right hand. They wrestled, he struggled to hold her back, tightening his grip at her waist. They were both laughing for what was probably the first time since Hermione had moved in.

Finally, Draco took control. He tossed the book across the room, and switched their positions so that Hermione was under him. They stopped laughing, their breathing coming in fast pants. Draco looked down at her face as she licked her lips. Merlin, he wanted to kiss her!

But that would be foolish. She would hex him into next week if he tried.

Or punch him in the face again.

He leaned back, getting off of her with a muttered, “Sorry.”

Hermione sat up, looking flustered. Her heartbeat had yet to settle. Had they almost kissed? she wondered. Looking anywhere but back at him, her eyes landed on the book he had tossed to the floor. Sprinting, she passed him and picked up the hardback. Grinning widely, she laughed.

“This is what you didn’t want me seeing?” she asked.

Draco’s face was now an interesting shade of red as he brushed back his blond hair. Held in her hands was a first edition of _A Revised History of Hogwarts By Hermione J. Granger_.

Walking over to him, she continued to smile. Placing her book in his hands, she joked. “If you want, I can sign it or you.”


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not JKR.  
> ******  
> Thanks to everyone who has Kudos this! Definitely makes me want to keep writing!  
> ******  
> 

Draco couldn’t believe that he had almost allowed himself to kiss Hermione Granger. Hell, he couldn’t believe that Hermione had looked like she almost wanted to be kissed.

Those two thoughts, though not terribly different, continuously flew laps around his brain. They were there as he helped rebuild the new wing. They were there as he and Hermione arranged the new furniture per Narcissa’s directions. They were there as he watched Hermione organize the few books the Manor had within the new library. And as she smirked that he now had far more shelves than books to fill them all.

The thoughts were there, prodding him, taunting him as he sat across from Hermione on her last night at the Manor.

“So,” Hermione started, “I have to admit that it hasn’t been completely horrific.”

“What?” Draco looked across the table at her. Soft candlelight bounced around the room, casting her delicate features in and out of shadow. They had finished with their meal, but remained at the table enjoying a bottle of Bordeaux.

“This past month. I was so certain that spending an entire month here was going to be absolute… Well, you know.” Hermione blushed and hurriedly sipped at her wine.

“Yeah. I know. Though I’m sure that _two_ months ago you would have claimed that being married to me would be the worst thing ever.” Draco joked, trying to break the tension.

“You would lose that bet.” She grinned.

“Oh, are you saying that there is someone you know who’s worse than me?” Draco mockingly placed a hand on his chest and gaped.

“Goyle. Being married to Goyle would definitely be worse than being with you.”

“I’ll have you know that Gregory Goyle happens to be one of my best…”

“Cronies?” she interjected.

“Bodyguards. I found that I was in need of one after I was bullied back in third year.” Draco teased narrowing his eyes at her.

“Sounds terrible”

“Oh, indeed it was. I barely saw her coming, when she just attacked me for no good reason. Very traumatic. It was nothing but wild hair and books everywhere.”

“I’m sure she had a reason,” Hermione laughed.

Draco nodded, reaching for his own wine. “Yeah, she probably did. I was quite a prat back then.”

Hermione shot him a look. “Back _then_?”

“Shut it.” He laughed, and tossed him napkin across the table at her. She giggled as she caught it before tossing it back. Draco knew it was probably the wine, but he cleared his throat and admitted. “Actually, I used to pick on her quite a bit.”

“Why was that?” Hermione asked softly over the rim of her glass, not breaking eye contact with him.

“It was the only way I could get her to notice me.” Draco looked away, unable to bring himself to watch her reaction at that bit of information. He reached for the bottle next to him and split the last of the wine between them.

Before he pulled his hand away, Hermione gripped his wrist tight enough that he looked at her. “I’m sure that she noticed you.”

Draco nodded and half smiled. Deep down he knew she was merely placating him, that she was just being nice. That’s what she did. Sitting back in his seat, he tried to relax.

“Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”

“That you can’t believe your luck at being married to such a gorgeous ferret?” he joked.

Hermione pursed her lips and pretending to think for a moment before going, “Uh, no. What I was thinking, is that even though I’ve been here a month I still don’t know where you hid yourself most of the time.”

“Nowhere,” Draco said hastily.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Hermione teased, trying to lighten the mood. “Is this going to be like the book all over again?”

“Does it really matter? You’re leaving in the morning.” Draco sighed, somewhat sad at the prospect of her departure. “I doubt that you will be spending much time here afterwards.”

Hermione blinked. She knew that what he was saying was true. She was returning back to her apartment in the morning. And her original plan had been never to see Draco again until the five years were up. She forgot to factor in what she would be feeling at the end of this month. She set her glass down slowly before standing. “Right. Of course. I suppose I should go finish packing then. Goodnight.”

Draco watched as she exited the dining room. It was probably for the best. It wouldn’t do to start feeling more for her than he already was. In one quick gulp he swallowed the remainder of his wine. There was just one small problem with her leaving.

He still wanted to kiss her. Still wanted her.

 

*****

 

Hermione slammed her beaded bag down on her bedside table the next day. The sound of a small avalanche echoed out of it. She rolled her eyes and groaned. “That’ll be the books.”

She sat down on the edge of her bed and looked around her bedroom. The small dresser and end tables were slightly dusty. In the corner she spied a stray cat toy, leftover from when Crookshanks was alive. She sighed, she was home.

So, why did she feel so out of place?

Before she could delve too far into those thoughts, a knock sounded on her front door. Frowning, she stood to go answer it. She had no clue who it might be, she hadn’t let anyone know yet that she was once again home.

Unlatching the lock, she twisted the door handle. Cracking it open she peeked through to see who was there. Hermione smiled brightly, her face lighting up, and swung the oak door open widely.

 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not the fabulous JKR.  
> <3<3<3<3

“Hey Granger,” Draco smirked.

“Draco? What are you doing here?” Hermione couldn’t stop the grin on her face. Or stop her heart from beating wildly. What was the matter with her? It hadn’t even been an hour since she had left Malfoy Manor.

He strode into her small living room, a trunk levitating behind him. “Well I was thinking…”

He held up a hand to her when her mouth opened. He grinned. “No comments. As I was saying, I was thinking. You invaded my life for a month. It seems only fair that I should be allowed to do the same.”

“You want to live here? For a month?” Hermione was stunned. Not that he thought of it and presumed that she would go along with this harebrained idea, but that she hadn’t thought of it first.

“Exactly.” He smirked again as he sat on top of his trunk.

“But where are you going to sleep?” Hermione asked.

“I assume that you have a second bedroom.”

“I do, but… well…”

“Let me guess.” Draco chuckled. “You turned it into a library for all of your books.”

Hermione looked away, sheepish.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take the couch.” Draco stood and walked over to her green couch. “Nice color by the way.”

Hermione gaped at him. Her couch would barely hold him, he was too tall to lay easily on it. She hadn’t thought that her apartment was small. But that was before Draco had walked in. The room had practically shrank when he had stepped into it.

 _You could always let him share your be-_ No! Hermione shoved that thought aside. He was just here to torment her. Just like he did when they were back in school. The problem was he didn’t know he was doing anything. He just had to be in the same room and she was bothered. Hot and bothered.

Alright, so not exactly like when they were in school, but still… bothered.

“I’ll get you some blankets and pillows then for tonight.” Hermione said. Before she could turn away, he grabbed her elbow.

“Hey. You can get those later. We’ve been trapped inside for a month. Let’s go out. How does lunch at the Leaky Cauldron sound?” He grinned that infamous Draco Malfoy grin down at her.

She agreed. He held out his arm for her to take. When she gingerly curled her arm around his elbow, pressing closer than was necessary, Draco had to stop his heart from leaping out of his throat. With a loud CRACK they Disaperated, and arrived outside of the Leaky Cauldron.

After they had placed their order and taken a seat, they stared awkwardly at each other for a moment. Even though yes, they were married and yes, they had practically lived in each other’s laps this past month, this was something entirely new. They were around other people, in public. They were no longer in a protective bubble away from prying eyes.

“Well, this isn’t uncomfortable at all.” Draco joked, breaking the tension.

“It could always be worse,” Hermione nodded, smiling with him. “Though I’m not certain how.”

“OH MY GODS!” A female scream came from across the room. Everyone’s heads turned as long red hair blazed through the crowd. “Hermione, you’re alive!”

Hermione found herself quickly in a tight embrace. Patting her friend’s back, she said. “I am, but you got to let me breathe, Gin.”

Ginny let go of Hermione. Her eyes snapped to Malfoy. Walking over to him, she slapped him hard across the face.

“Ow!” he yelled, cupping his face. “What is it with you ladies of Gryffindor slapping me?”

Ginny ignored him and turned back to Hermione. “You couldn’t write to let me know how you were doing this past month? I thought that he had killed you!”

“We aren’t supposed to visit during that first month, remember?” Hermione frowned.

“Visit? No. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t allowed to write. Geez, Hermione.” Ginny collapsed in the chair between the other two.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” Hermione said quietly as she sat back down.

“Really? I did. I wrote to Blaise at least twice a week.” Draco said still rubbing his cheek.

“You’re not helping.” Ginny snapped.

“Sorry, but I just endured massive head trauma caused by a she-weasle.” Draco glared at Ginny.

Hermione bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. She could tell that her friend was trying to do the same. She knew that she had better do something before they both started to reach for their wands, so she asked. “How’s Harry?”

“Ugh, under so much stress right now.” Ginny flipped her long hair over her shoulder.

“Why?”

“Ron has been temporarily suspended, so Harry has had to pick up the slack. Well, I don’t think that he actually had too, but you know how he is. Always has to step in and be the hero.” Ginny said quickly.

“Saint Potter,” Draco muttered under his breath.

Hermione kicked him under the table.

“Why was Ron suspended?” Hermione asked.

“Not sure. You’ll have to ask Harry tonight when you come over for dinner.” Ginny told Hermione.

“Oh, what time should _we_ be there?” Draco asked snidely, glossing over the fact he hadn’t been invited.

“Uh,” Ginny glanced uneasily between the two of them. “Seven?”

“That sounds great, Gin. We’ll be there.” Hermione smiled warmly.

“Right. Well, I’ll see you then, I guess.” Ginny stood. For a moment she seemed as though she wanted to say something else, but decided against it. With a small wave she left alone to their lunch. She couldn’t wait to get home to fill Harry in on this newest development.

It seemed to Ginny that her best friend wasn’t all that adverse to being married to a blond ferret.

Interesting.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope. Not JKR. Damn genie lied again...  
> <3<3<3

For the rest of the afternoon the pair of them wandered around Diagon Alley. They spent the time going in and out of shops, stopping and chatting with acquaintances, checking out the latest in books and Quidditch supplies. Finally, Hermione attempted to drag Draco into Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

“No way,” Draco waved his arms, backing away from the front door of the shop. “Having to deal with She-Weasle twice today is more than I can deal with, without adding another ginger to the mix.”

“Well, I’m going in. George is one of my closest friends and I want to say hi. Wait out here if you must.” Hermione turned and stepped inside the shop.

Outside Draco waited impatiently for several minutes before following her. The encounter with the elder Weasley brother wasn’t as bad as he had feared. Of course it wasn’t all hugs and unicorns either. Draco, thankfully, was only given one mild threat, “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.” And he left with only a cramped hand from when George crushed it when they shook hands.

Soon after it was time for them to get ready to go to dinner. They went back to Hermione’s apartment to change. As he dug through his old school trunk for a change of clothes, Draco smirked. Somewhere at the bottom for the trunk he knew there was a particular item he wanted to wear to Potter’s tonight.

When Hermione finally stepped out of her bedroom, wearing a light blue dress similar to one she wore at Slughorn’s Christmas party, Draco was waiting in the living room impatiently. He wore dark muggle jeans, a black button down shirt, Slytherin green tie, and a black suit jacket under an overcoat.

“Cold?” Hermione asked noting the heavy coat.

“Just wanted to be prepared in case it got cold later. Shall we?” Draco answered as he held out his arm. She took it and Apparated them to Harry’s home at Grimmauld Place.

Ginny answered the door and showed them into the living room. It was different than how Hermione remembered it. Instead of being dingy, worn out and creepy as it had once been, Ginny had done wonders with her own remodel over the past year. It was now warm and inviting, a place to raise the next generation.

Harry walked in, giving Hermione a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. Facing Draco he paused before holding out his hand. It may have been eleven years late, but Harry decided to accept the offer of friendship that Draco had given him. It was time to move on from the past and make a fresh start. “Malfoy. Welcome to our home.”

Draco eyed Potter’s outstretched hand before accepting it. They shook once before letting go. Draco looked around and asked, “Nice place. Is there someplace I can set my jacket?”

Slipping it off, he smirked when he heard the three of them respond to what he was wearing beneath the overcoat. “Draco! You ferret!” – Hermione, and then Ginny - “How dare you wear that in my house?”

Potter was the only one who came up to him and took the button between his thumb and forefinger, inspecting it. Arching one dark brow, he said. “Really? ‘Potter Stinks’? Is this really the first impression you want to be making on Hermione’s brother?”

“What can I say? Some things will never change.” Draco laughed, surprised when Potter joined in.

Dinner went surprisingly smooth, despite the undertone of awkwardness. Draco knew he had to walk a tightrope tonight, he was in enemy territory after all. Several hours, and a few bottles of wine later, Draco helped Ginny with the cleanup. Hermione went over to Harry, asking, “So why was Ron suspended?”

“I suspect that you may already know.” Harry nodded over to Malfoy across the kitchen. “I found out about his unauthorized raids. Kingsley had no other choice but to suspend him.”

Hermione sighed her relief. “I take it that means that Malfoy Manor won’t be raided anymore?”

“Nope.” Harry grinned. “At least, not as long as you’re married to the ferret.”

“Oi, watch who you’re calling ferret, Scarhead.” Draco spoke, joining them. Taking the seat next to Hermione, he slung one arm over the back of her chair.

“Isn’t it so nice to be back in school, Hermione?” Ginny asked, sarcastically.

“Oh, yes. So terribly annoying to think that we’ve all grown up. Oh wait a minute…” Hermione rolled her eyes. She squealed as Draco tickled her side. She slapped his hands away, slightly giggling. He grinned at her, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

Harry and Ginny shared a look, he with raised brows, and hers more of an _I told you so._

Harry cleared his throat. They both glanced over at him, Draco’s hand still playing with Hermione’s hair. Hermione blushed at seeing her best friend’s questioning smirk. Standing, she said, “Well, it’s getting late. We should be off.”

Draco’s coat was collected, and goodbyes were exchanged with promises to get together again soon.

*****

“Who would have ever thought that I would have a halfway decent time having dinner with Potter and the She-Weasle?” Draco jokingly observed as he propped his bare feet up on his wife’s coffee table. “I was honestly surprised that I wasn’t poisoned.”

“You almost were after wearing that damn button tonight.” Hermione laughed quietly. She dropped the stack of blankets and pillows into his lap.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down next to him after shoving the bedding to the other side. Flinging an arm around her shoulders, Draco held her in place. “What I’m _trying_ to say, was that tonight was fun. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Hermione whispered faintly. Between moving back to home, spending the day wandering around Diagon Alley, the wine from dinner and Draco softly drawing circles on her arm, she was spent. Her head lulled, resting momentarily on his shoulder. Before she moved to get off the couch, she spared him a glance, shocked to find herself so close.

“Goodnight,” she uttered. In a move that surprised them both, Hermione leaned over and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Before Draco had a chance to react, she was halfway to her room. He sat completely still for several minutes, long after the door to her room clicked shut, wondering what had just happened.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not JKR<3   
> Sorry for this being such a short chapter, but it needed to set up the next part. *grins sinisterly*  
> <3<3<3

The next morning, Hermione groaned as she rolled over. No matter how much or how little wine she might partake, she always wound up with a splitting headache the next morning. What she needed now was a lukewarm shower, giant coffee and French toast with extra syrup.

She had barely bothered to put on pajamas before falling into bed. She had thrown on a black camisole and had called it a night. Blushing now, Hermione thought of the dream she had had during the night where she had kissed Draco on her couch. She laughed a bit to herself. If she had kissed him, she would have been utterly embarrassed.

They both knew where they stood with each other regarding this whole Marriage Law.

Dragging herself out of bed, she ignored her robe hanging off the footrest. Her scalp inched, and she knew without the help of a mirror that her hair was going everywhere. Her unslippered feet shuffled down the hallway to the bathroom.

If she had forgotten that she wasn’t living alone, she was rudely reminded.

She opened the door just as Draco stepped dripping wet and naked from her shower. Her eyes went wide as she took _everything_ in. Wide shoulders, narrow hips, firm bum. Hermione’s gaze followed one particular drop of moisture as it made it’s way closer to his… growing… “Oh my gods!”

Turning bright red, Hermione swiftly closed the door and raced back to her room. She slammed the door shut behind her and jumped back into the bed, pulling her beige comforter over her head.

“That did not just happen. That did not just happen.” She repeated. But it had.

She had walked in on Draco Malfoy, her husband, completely _gloriously_ naked.

*****

Draco blinked at the now shut bathroom door. For the briefest of moments, Hermione had stood there in nothing more than a very small tank and the daintiest pair of panties he had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Groaning, he turned around and stepped back into the shower.

Good thing he had already used up all the hot water.

*****

Two days later they still hadn’t brought up the shower incident with each other. And it was unlikely that either of them would. Hermione was far too embarrassed by what she had done, (and secretly how much she had enjoyed looking at him) to bring herself to apologize. Draco refused to bring it up only because he wanted to see how long it would take his wife to stop jumping every time she saw him.

On day three after The Incident an owl arrived from Malfoy Manor. Draco read it and rolled his eyes.

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“We’ve been summoned,” he handed her the parchment, groaning.

Hermione took the fine parchment and read:

 

_You and a guest are cordially invited_

_Malfoy Manor_

_27 April_

_Dinner starts at 6 o’clock (Drinks at 5)_

_Charity Auction to Benefit St. Mungo’s_

_RSVP Required_

_Formal Attire Necessary_

 

“We don’t even get a personal invite? Just ‘you and a guest’?” Hermione laughed.

“It saves Mother time when she sends out mass invites to the Wizarding World’s who’s who.” Draco rubbed the back of his neck. He knew that he would have to turn up. Despite their association with the Dark Lord during the war, the Malfoy name still carried clout. “I’m going to have to go.”

“I’ll just send an owl to Harry and Ginny to make sure that they will be there as well,” Hermione turned to go to her room. She paused when Draco grabbed her wrist.

“Wait. You’re going with me?” Draco asked, confused.

“Of course. You’re my husband.” Hermione said as though it was obvious. Though her cheeks reddened slightly as she turned to head down the hallway to her bedroom.

Draco remained where he stood in the kitchen, pondering her words. Feeling for the first time since this law was enacted, that it might actually be true.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support my loverlies! (And yes I can hear your frustrated screams from here. But really, you wouldn't want them to fall too easily, would you?)  
> Still not JKR  
> <3<3<3<3

“Come on Hermione! We’re going to be late.” Draco knocked on the door to his wife’s bedroom. Or as he liked to refer to it as her Forbidden Sanctuary because ‘Draco wasn’t allowed’. He had yet to step foot past the barrier of her bedroom door.

“Hold your hippogriff’s, I’m coming!” Hermione flung open the door and almost ran into Draco’s chest. He backed away as she huffed out. “You try taming this tumbleweed hair one time and see how long it takes you.”

But instead of making a sarcastic comment back like she was expecting, he just stood there silently looking at her. Tapping her foot, she asked. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered as he took her in. She wore a strapless floor-length teal gown, the color making her skin glow golden. Her usual mess of hair was done up, exposing the length of her neck. She wore no jewelry other than a pair of diamond studs at her ears. As far as he was concerned she needed no other embellishments.

Hermione gaped, unsure of if she had heard him correctly. “Uh, th-thank you. Would you mind?”

She held out a simple diamond necklace to him and turned. He placed it over her neck and took his time latching it. His fingers lightly grazed her skin, causing goosepimples to raise. They lingered a moment after latching the clasp, savoring the softness. Hermione’s breath hitched, and caught. “Didn’t you just say that we’re going to be late?”

With that one sentence, Draco snapped out of his trance. Two hours later they were at Malfoy Manor, drinks in hand, wandering through the surprisingly large crowd of party-goers. Across the ballroom they spotted Harry and Ginny talking with some of the other Weasley’s.

Hermione smiled, thrilled to see them all there.

Even more thrilled that no one had been hexed yet.

Draco was thinking much the same. Though he also felt a large amount of relief that his father was – not exactly sober- but as close as Draco had ever seen him in the past few years. His mother must have set her foot down about tonight. “Probably on his throat.” Draco muttered, chuckling to himself.

“What was that?” Hermione grinned.

“Nothing. You know what? You’re being wasted just standing here. Come, allow me to show you off.” Taking her drink from her, he set their glasses down on a nearby table. Leading her out onto the dance floor, he spun her before pulling her into his arms. He took no notice when other couples began dancing as well.

“Nice move there, slick.” Hermione smirked, a habit she noticed she’d recently adapted.

“Thank you. I’ve always found myself to be quite an elegant dancer if I don’t mind saying.”

“Really?” Hermione asked in disbelief. “I seem to recall that you had some sort of bizarre seizure-type moves back at the Yule Ball.”

“We were in fourth year. We _all_ did. Especially your date.”

“Victor was not that bad.”

Draco arched a brow, and continued to smoothly guide her across the floor. His hand pressed tighter on her back. “Well, good to see that Potter has finally learned some moves. It had been rather embarrassing to watch him open the Ball that year.”

Hermione turned her head slightly to see her best friend lead Ginny past them. She barely registered it. Her entire being was solely focused on the man holding her. On his hand at the small of her back, his other hand pressing the one he held closer to his chest. Her arm moved from the edge of his shoulder to the back of his neck in response. She was so close to him in that moment, she would later swear that she could have counted each one of his previously imperceptible freckles dusting his nose. With her heels on, they were practically eye to eye.

And more importantly: lip to lip.

Suddenly overheated, and her heartbeat racing, Hermione stepped away from him. It would not do for one of the Golden Trio to start making out with someone in the middle of the festivities, not even if it was her husband. Not even because she so desperately wanted to. “It’s a little warm in here. I think that I’m going to go get some air.”

*****

She left the ballroom, and headed for the new wing. She knew that he was following her. She half-hoped he always would. She entered the unlit library, leaving the door open. Her heels clicked against the wood flooring as she went to stand next to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Draco silently shut the door behind him. Leaning against the wood panel, he took a breath as he watched Hermione. She barely moved a muscle except for her hands. No, her fingers twisted at something on her left hand. He frowned. It was then that he realized that she had yet to have a ring. He’d have to remedy that.

He came up beside her, silently as some deadly predator. But Hermione wasn’t frightened, not of him. Not anymore. When he touched her shoulder, she turned and saw a surprising look of concern hiding in his pale grey eyes. Only for the briefest of moments, she saw it, glimpsed behind the mask of snide comments and sarcasm he always wore.

It was enough.

Stepping closer, Hermione arched up and pressed her lips to his. She closed her eyes, and held the front of his suit jacket. _Please_ , she wanted to scream. For a terrifying moment when he froze she considered that, maybe, this had been the wrong move. That fear was gone in the next as Draco’s arms wrapped around her, one gliding up to cup her cheek as he deepened the kiss.

_Yes! Yes! Yes!_

His tongue swept her mouth and she opened wider, allowing him access. He angled deeper and gripped her tighter. She sighed, and slid her palms up around his neck, sinking her fingers into his perfectly done hair.

He groaned, pulling back. He looked down at her face, at her closed eyes. He paused at her lips. Her pink, swollen, wet, fucking kissable lips. Just as he was about to take her mouth to taste her again, they were interrupted.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish I was but I'm not.... JKR

“ _Hermy! Where s’is Hermin-inny?_ ”

They both turned to the noise coming from the direction of the ballroom. Someone was yelling for Hermione – who else would be called Hermy? They rushed back to the ballroom, pushing their way through the edge of the crowd.

Everyone was watching dumbfounded as the Weasley family and Harry-freaking-Potter tried to calm Ron down. The ginger wasn’t having any of it though, pulling himself free from their hands. Waving his wand loosely about, he continued to yell as he stumbled around the room. “Where’s is Herman-inny? I must save her from the ferret-dragon! Where she?”

“Ronald. I’m right here. Calm down.” Hermione stepped forward, but not too close. She almost vomited from the stench coming from him. His clothes were in shambles, and positively reeking of booze.

“This isn’t the time or place to be doing this, mate.” Draco stepped beside Hermione. He gripped his wand at his side, more than prepared to use it if need be.

Ron turned violently on him, screaming. “I’m not your _mate_ , you prat! I’m taking Hermi-ione with me. Got to save her, protect her from you.” He pointed his wand wobbly at Draco’s face for the briefest of moments before his wand shot out of his hand.

Behind him, Harry caught it.

Ron looked around, bewildered. Then his gaze landed on Hermione. Sadly, he said. “You should be married to me, you know. Not to that traitor.”

She looked back at him, disappointed. “We wouldn’t have worked, Ronald. We didn’t work. Why don’t you go home and rest. We can talk again when you’re sober.”

“Arthur and I will take him home. Sorry about this, Narcissa.” Molly Weasley said quietly as she placed a hand on her youngest son’s shoulder. Arthur stood to Ron’s other side, holding the boy’s wand. With a pop, they Disapparated.

Silence filled the room. Draco nodded to the band to begin playing again, but even then, no one moved. The awkwardness was dense and palpable, shifting amongst the crowd in waves. Finally Harry broke rank, and walked over to Narcissa. “Would you do me the honor of this dance?”

She acquiesced, however emotionlessly, and they took to the dance floor. Following Potter’s lead, Draco lead Hermione around the room in a slow waltz. Neither spoke, both deep in thought and filled with far too many emotions to give voice to in that moment.

*****                                                         

“That’s sounds absolutely hilarious, mate!” Blaise laughed, slapping a hand against Draco’s back two days later.

Draco grinned. It was rather funny, when he thought about it objectively. However, he remembered vividly how utterly disappointed and miserable Hermione had looked when they had returned to her apartment after the party. And that made him want to punch Ronald Weasley in the neck.

That plus the fact that the lout had interrupted quite the snog.

Once Blaise calmed down, he leaned back into the green couch. Draco had invited his friend over to Hermione’s to catch up while she was out. “So how are things on the marriage front?”

“Well, we haven’t killed each other yet, so I’d say good so far.” Draco answered snidely.

“That’s always a plus,” Blaise sipped at his tea. His marriage to Tracy Davis was going surprisingly easily. He hoped that his friend’s was going decently as well.

Draco shrugged then said. “We kissed. At the party, right before Weasle showed up.”

“Really? You kissed your wife? How utterly shocking.” Blaise answered in a monotone, then laughed even harder. “Honestly, mate. I’m not surprised. From your letters last month it was pretty obvious that you fancied her.”

“What are you talking about? I’m pretty certain that I did nothing but complain about her to you,” affronted, Draco punched his friend in the shoulder.

“Exactly. You complained about her, but didn’t resort to calling her ‘mudblood’ or the like. It seemed to me that you were mainly frustrated.”

Before Draco could answer, Hermione walked in the front door. She looked mildly startled at seeing Blaise sitting next to Draco on her couch, but gave him friendly smile nontheless. “Oh, hello Blaise.”

Blaise stood and went over to her. Taking her hand, he kissed the back of her palm. He linked her arm with his, returning to his seat with her next to him. “Hermione! Don’t you look wonderful. I hear that you’ve been tormenting my boy Draco here quite splendidly.”

“Have I?” Hermione arched a brow at Draco sitting on the other side of Blaise.

“Don’t listen to him, Granger. He’s an idiot.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“That I am.” Blaise acknowledged. He reached for the teapot to pour Hermione a cup. It was empty. “Empty. Kitchen through there?”

Draco and Hermione sat quietly on the couch, waiting for Blaise to return. Since their kiss they had barely spoken with each other, neither knowing how to bring up what happened. Or if they should just bypass talking about it and go straight back to snogging.

Draco knew which he would prefer.

Once Blaise returned with a fresh pot, he poured for them. He grinned widely when Hermione started drinking. Draco eyed his friend apprehensively, he was up to something. Blaise rarely was this nice for no reason. And certainly never to a Gryffindor that Draco had ever seen.

“It’s getting late, I should be going.” Blaise stood, kissing her hand again. “Hermione, pleasure as always. Malfoy, good luck.”

With that he left.

Draco put down his untouched cup back on the coffee table. He turned to Hermione to find that she was staring at him intensely.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not JKR...  
> ****  
> You asked for it. Things are going to start to get steamy!!!  
> <3<3<3

Hermione felt tingly. And hot. How could a spring dress feel as constricting as a wool sweater all of a sudden? She felt that she was wearing far too many clothes. She had barely registered Blaise leaving, but was fully aware of Draco sitting next to her. Her eyes roamed his body, from his muggle jeans, up across his white button down shirt that stretched nicely over his chest, narrowing in on where it was undone at his collar. She could see his pulse jumping on his neck.

She wondered how he would taste there.

“Granger, you alright?” he questioned worriedly. He placed a hand on her bare knee, shaking it slightly. Leaning closer, he frowned. “Hermione?”

And then her lips were on his. She bit at his bottom lip, then lightly sucked at it. He groaned in response. She grasped the back of his neck, holding him to her. He kissed her back fervently for a moment, savoring her before pulling back. “Hermione? What are you-?”

She pushed him back against the couch, and straddled his lap. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

She set her lips to his once more. She needed this, to feel him against her, under her. She rubbed her body against his, pressing her chest to his, silently begging for him to touch her. She moaned when his hands closed on her hips. _More,_ she thought. _I need more_.

Under normal circumstances Hermione Jean Granger would have stopped to think why she was suddenly and so very desperately horny. But not at the moment. Right now all she could think of was getting Draco naked as quickly as possible. Her fingers began to slide down from his neck to work on the buttons of his shirt.

Even though Draco desperately wanted this to happen, something was off. Hermione wouldn’t just climb on top of him to have her way with him. Not yet at least. His shirt was half undone when he grabbed her wrists, stopping her. Pulling back from her delicious lips, he groaned. “Hermione, stop.”

“But I want you,” she whimpered. She rotated her hips down against his bulge in desperation for friction.

He groaned, and put his forehead against hers. “I want you too, luv. But not like this.”

Draco would later wonder where he found the strength to lift her away from him and walk out the front door, locking it behind him. He Apparated straight to Potter’s house and yelled for Ginny. Without explaining the details, told her that Hermione was ill and needed her friend. Without waiting around, he went off in search of Blaise.

The bastard.

*****

Hermione groaned, holding one of her throw pillows against her. He had walked out! She couldn’t believe it. Now she was pissed as hell on top of being achy everywhere.

Even now, hours later she was still desperate for him.

Ginny had shown up soon after Draco left, taken one look at Hermione and laughed her head off. This hadn’t been the first time she had seen one of her friends under the effects of one of George’s lust potions. She had told Hermione to take a cold shower and go to bed since the other option for the potion to wear off was unwilling to help.

Hermione had growled at her.

After her friend had left though, she had taken the advice about the cold shower. It had barely taken the edge off.

Frustrated beyond measure, Hermione flopped back on the mattress. Closing her eyes, she tried to fall asleep, but instead thoughts of Draco fluttered in. It wasn’t difficult for her to imagine him, naked beside her. Not since walking in on him in the shower at least. She sighed, and moved her hands across her own body. She didn’t do this often, but hell and damnation if she wasn’t going to tonight.

Cupping her breasts, picturing Draco, she pinched her nipples. Her breathing increased. Slowly she moved one hand down her stomach and in between her thighs. Using one finger she teased herself, rubbing the nub back and forth. Merlin, how she wanted Draco here touching her instead. Perhaps he would tease her like this. Or maybe he would just thrust his fingers in deep. At the thought, Hermione arched her back for a better angle as she penetrated herself. The heel of her palm pressed against her clit as she pleasured herself, bringing herself to orgasm.

As she came, she screamed Draco’s name.

And as she lay spent, and sweating, she still wished he was there.

*****

“Salazar’s ball sack, Blaise!” was all he heard before Draco slammed his fist in his face.

From the floor he laughed. “What? I was only trying to help!”

“How is drugging my wife helping exactly?” Draco yelled, pacing the floor of his friend’s living room.

“Well for starters…” Blaise began.

“Don’t.” Draco held up a hand. “I can guess.”

Blaise watched his friend pace angrily like a caged animal. But twice as vicious. “Why are you even here? I know how fast that potion I used works. I figured that I wouldn’t be hearing from you again for at least a week.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I laced the tea.”

“I know you laced Hermione’s tea.”

“No. I laced the pot. Didn’t you drink any?” Blaise laughed.

“No, I didn’t. You are a right bastard, you know that Zabini?” Draco glared at him, running a frustrated hand through his blond locks.

“So my mother tells me.”

“How long are the effects supposed to last anyways?” Draco suddenly asked.

“The potion bottle said twelve hours at minimum.”

“Fine. I’m taking the guest room.” Draco growled, stomping to his room. But hell if he was going to get any sleep.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry!!!! Sorry it took so long to update! I'm a horrible person, I know! I got distracted with writing my Destiel stories and this one unfortunately got set on the back burner. Plus got a second job - that DEFINIETLY cut into my writing time :(
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing...
> 
> Remember kudos and comments keep me smiling, loverlies!  
> <3<3<3

Hermione woke the next morning naked and alone in her bed. Vividly, everything she had done, everything that had happened the night before played through her mind. How she had thrown herself at Draco, his leaving her alone on the couch, Ginny clueing her in that she had been essentially drugged.

She should have been embarrassed by her behavior.

But she wasn’t.

She knew she should be grateful that Draco hadn’t taken advantage of her while she had been under the influence of George Weasley’s lust potion, and she was. But she still felt this gnawing emptiness inside. That somehow she had missed a great opportunity.

Getting out of bed, she walked to her bathroom and got in the shower. She knew that the potion had worn off, but still she felt achy. If she was honest with herself, she had been feeling that a lot lately. As she stood under the hot spray from the showerhead, she thought over what had transpired the night before. She knew full well what she had done. But what had Draco done? He hadn’t seemed to be under the influence of the potion, yet he had responded to her.

Did that mean that he truly wanted her?

_Yes_ , she answered herself. Hermione remembered how hard and heavy he had been between her legs while she straddled him. There had been no faking that. Nor had he been unable to hide the look of desire on his face when he had left.

Then he had left.

Hermione smiled slightly. Instead of taking advantage of a drugged Hermione, Draco had left. Years ago she never would have expect such a response from him. But now? It was just another thing that was added to the list of reasons Hermione was falling for him. And if Hermione was honest with herself, she had already fallen hard. Perhaps the next time she was alone with him she would tell him. Would show him.

After showering and getting dressed, Hermione walked out to the living room, stopping short.

Draco’s things were gone. The trunk, the extra shoes that always landed next to the bookshelf, the blazer on the back of the armchair. All gone. Her living room had never seemed more empty. Sitting on top of the pillow he had been using for weeks sat an envelope with Hermione’s name on it. She plopped down on the loveseat and began to read.

 

_Hermione,_

_I wish that I was brave enough to do this in person, but I’ve never possessed the courage that you Gryffindor’s hold beyond measure. I only know the cowards way, the Slytherin way: self preservation. I know that if I were to attempt this face to face, I would never be able to follow through._

_These past months have been, in more ways than I can explain, surprising. You may have guessed that already or felt it for yourself._

_But after the events of last night, I think that it would be best if we return back to the way things were before this ridiculous law was passed._

_I have moved back home. Just know that I’m there for you should you need me._

_Your Friend,_

_Draco_

 

Hermione felt tears forming behind her eyes. He was gone. She couldn’t believe it. The air of her apartment was suddenly too thick for her to breathe. He wanted to go back to his ‘normal’ life? Her ‘friend’? She clenched the note in her fist and sobbed.

*****

Hermione wandered around Diagon Alley, not really absorbing anything that surrounded her. It was her normal setting lately. Numb. Foggy. Ever since Draco had taken it upon himself to extricate himself from her life, she had been going through the motions of living. Never in her life would she have ever thought that she would be affected like this by a man.

Particularly if that man was Draco Malfoy.

It had been three weeks. She hadn’t bothered to contact him. He made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t interested.

Merlin, that hurt her heart.

_CRASH! Bang!_ “Ow!”

Hermione blinked out of her pain, turning at the noise. Down the alley she had just passed came another “Ow! Dammit! Who the bloody hell put that there?”

Hermione frowned. She knew that voice. Rolling her eyes, she stepped gingerly down the narrow space between the two leaning buildings.

“Ronald?” she called out.

A tuft of ginger hair popped up, a smile brightened his filthy face. Hermione’s eyes widened. His clothes were in far worse wear than they had been during the ball, the stench far worse. She grimaced as he wobbled over to her, flask swinging in his hand.

“Mione? Hell- _hic_ -hello.” He took a large step forward and swung her into his arms.

When he set her back down, she had to fake a smile. “Hey, Ron. What are you doing down here?”

He looked at her as though the answer were obvious. “Uh, drinking?” He wiggled that flask in front of her eyes before taking another swig.

Hermione pursed her lips. He was falling apart. As was she now that she thought about it. Taking in his appearance, she asked. “Drink down here a lot do you?”

Ron snorted and smirked. “Well all the ‘proper’ estab- _hic_ -lishments keep throwing me out. Don’t they know I’m a Golden King?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes, Ron. You’re a Golden King. How about we get some food in you, your highness? Get you cleaned up?”

“Food? I love food.” Ron grinned drunkenly.

Hermione couldn’t believe that she had been resorted to taking care of a drunk Ron, but she couldn’t walk away and leave him like this.

Besides, it was a way to distract her from how much she was missing Draco.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pleads* Don't hate me... <3<3 this chapter goes out to fellow Ao3-er Ceren who has been commenting and keeping me going with each chapter of this! Thanks!  
> *****  
> I own nothing.  
> *****

Blaise inched the door open, sneaking a peek at his friend. Draco had finally passed out at some point in the night. It had become Draco’s nightly ritual, drink, rant, write, pass out.

Blaise sighed. He was seriously considering kicking his friend’s ass for being so bleeding idiotic. It had been almost five weeks since Draco had abandoned Hermione. Clearly Draco had some intense feelings for his wife, for Hermione.

He wouldn’t be behaving this fucking foolish otherwise.

Blaise shook his head and glanced around the room. It was littered with letters, both completed and barely started, pristine and crinkled. Glancing at the stack piled next to him, Blaise grabbed a handful and read through them.

 _ ~~Hermione,~~_                          

_Dear Hermione,_

_I’m an idiot._ – Blaise snorted. “That’s for sure.”

_~~Darling wife,~~ _

_~~I left because you’re too perfect for me.~~ _

Blaise rolled his eyes. They all seemed to be of a similar vein. He couldn’t believe that his best friend was such a complete and utter sap. Normally Blaise would have taken advantage of the situation and tortured Draco with his behavior mercilessly.

Normally.

But Blaise knew that his friend was hurting. And he knew that it was partly (mostly) his fault. If he had just left well enough alone, Draco and Hermione could have been well on their way to making those perfect little babies they would eventually have.

But no, he had to put his big nose into the situation and fucked everything up.

Guess that it was up to him to fix it.

Flipping through the piles again, Blaise grinned as an idea came to him.

*****

Hermione had spent the last few weeks doing what she could to get Ron back into fighting shape as it were. He was still barely sober, but he was no longer a drunken waste. He had yet to return to the Ministry, to his job, though his suspension had ended a while ago. But at least he was showering and wearing clean clothing again.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Part of her was thankful that helping Ron had given her an outlet to focus on. Another part of her was wishing to crawl back into bed, pull the covers over her head and wallow in her misery. The third part that was fighting to be heard, wanted to hunt down Draco and hex him.

Or kiss him.

She missed him. Desperately, she admitted to herself. But it wasn’t as though he wanted her. So what the hell could she do? So much for being the smartest witch of her age. She stood in her kitchen, staring blindly out of the window, stirring her now cold tea. She blinked when she saw a brown owl heading her way. In a few seconds in flew through the window frame, and dropped a poorly wrapped package on the kitchen table before turning and flying back out.

There was a note tucked into the string wrapping the box. Hermione removed it first and read.

 

_Hermione,_

_I want to apologize. I laced your tea that night. I shouldn’t have. Sometimes I jump in with a lark before truly thinking it over. And I’m sorry that I may have screwed up whatever may or may not have been happening between you and Draco._

_He never went home. He’s been moping at my place for weeks now, making my life a living hell. I know I shouldn’t really complain. I probably deserve it for messing with things that weren’t any of my business._

_But habits die hard, so I’m going to do so again._

_He writes to you every night. But never sends the letters. I’m sick of looking at them, at him. So here. Read them or throw them out._

_Blaise_

_P.S. Don’t break his heart._

 

Hermione frowned in confusion. Opening the box, she withdrew the letters. She could tell at a glance that most had been written hastily. They were outpourings of a broken heart desperately reaching out to the person he cared for. Lines of wishes and hopes and dreams of their future. Realizations that they would never be. Longings written, of caresses he wanted to share, of how he wished he hadn’t left that night.

Hermione went through the letters twice. Her heart ached. If this was how he truly felt…? Oh he was an idiot. So was she. She should have just mustered up her Gryffindor courage that first day and demanded he come back home. But apparently facing Voldemort was easier for her than facing her emotions regarding her husband.

Standing, she grabbed her purse, determined to hunt down her husband and demand some straight answers. She flung open her door and stopped.

“Hey, ‘Mione. Where you off to?” Ron grinned. For once he was completely sober.

“I’m actually on my way out. Is there something you need, Ronald?” She hadn’t meant for that to come out as harshly as it had but she was impatient to find Draco, like last week.

Ron blinked and frowned. This wasn’t the reaction that he had been expecting. They had been growing closer the past few weeks. He had been certain that they were almost back to they way it had been before. Before Draco, before their break-up. “I was just…” He hesitated.

“What Ronald? I have to go find Draco.” Hermione huffed out.

His eyes snapped. So did his temper. He griped her shoulders painfully. “Why? He abandoned you, Hermione. He left you, ignored you for weeks. Yet you want to go to him? Why are you being so stupid? He doesn’t love you ‘Mione.”

“Ouch, Ronald. You’re hurting me.” Hermione pulled away, but his grip remained, digging into the soft flesh of her arm. “Let me go.”

But Ron ignored her and continued. He shook her harshly. “ _I_ love you! Why can’t you see that?” He shoved her away roughly, as though disgusted.

It happened in slow motion: Hermione falling back, tripping over the end table, her head cracking open as she crashed into the wall. Her blood spilled out on the floor, soaking through the carpet.

“Hermione? _Hermione!_ ” Ron shouted out, unable to comprehend what it was that he had just done.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know, I know! Please put down the pitchforks and torches! I've been unfortunately adulting the past few months and had also fallen into the SPN Destiel well as well. But here is a new chapter for those of you who have put up with my sporatic updating.  
> Comments and kudos kiddies...

“You’re being a complete and utter idiot. You know that right?”

Draco nodded at Blaise’s words. He continued to stare at the wall as memories of his time with Hermione danced across the pristine blue and gold paper. Blaise had come into the room only moments before. Draco sighed. his friend had taken it upon himself in the past few days to start berating him about his behavior in regards to Hermione.

Draco didn’t need to hear it. He was already berating himself.

“Why don’t you just go talk to her? Tell her that you love her.”

Draco’s head snapped over to Blaise as he leaned on the desk. An annoying know-it-all smirk twitched on his face. “What are you talking about? I don’t-”

“Oh, yes you do, mate. You wouldn’t be this much of an ass if you didn’t. So again I say, go and tell her.” Blaise crossed his well muscled arms, arching a brow.

Draco stood and started pacing the room. Shaking his head, he said. “I don’t know where you got that idea but how in the world could I possibly love Hermione Know-it-All Granger? I mean, she was my nemesis in school.”

“No, she was your equal in school.” Blaise responded.

Draco paused in his pacing. That was true. Hermione was the only one in their year who surpassed him in their OWLS. For the longest time he had held a grudge against the ‘mudblood’ for being able to do that, when only a Pureblood should have been the only to achieve those marks. But in his secret of hearts he had admired her for it, for surpassing him, for proving his Father and his bigotry wrong.

“Perhaps you’re right.” Draco said softly. “But even if I – _care_ – for her that way doesn’t mean that she cares for me.”

“You’ll never know, unless you talk to her.”

They were interrupted as a soft tapping came from the window. Draco arched one perfect blond brow as he opened the window for the owl. It had a small emblem hanging from it’s neck for St. Mungo’s Hospital. Draco detached the letter from the barn owl’s leg when he saw his name on the outside of the envelope.

He ripped it open.

 

_Mr. Draco Malfoy,_

_As a representative to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies, it is to my regret to inform you that your wife, Ms. Hermione Granger-Malfoy, has been brought in for treatment from a severe head wound. She is currently undergoing treatment –_

 

Draco crumpled the letter in his fist. He could feel the start of tears running down his face as he raced out of his room. He pushed past Blaise hastily, not realizing that his friend was following close at his heels. Halting only a moment in front of the fireplace, he threw in a handful of Floo Powder and yelled “St. Mungo’s!” With a flash of green he was gone.

He raced from the visitors Floo Network out to the lobby. He raced over to the reception desk. “I need to find Hermione Granger.” He said harshly.

“Only family is permitted to visit members of the Golden Trio.” She answered coldly. “How are you related?”

“I’m her husband. Draco Malfoy.”

He had to hand it to the receptionist, her eyes widened only briefly before she pursed her lips again. She directed him to the wing and room number. “The Healer in charge will most like wish to speak with you.”

Draco nodded before rushing to find his wife.

What the hell happened? The elevator couldn’t move fast enough. His mind wandered as a dozen scenarios raced through his head at speeds that made him dizzy. Had she been involved in a Muggle accident? Was she bravely fighting Dark Wizards again? What happened? He skidded to a halt in front of Hermione’s room, the closed door giving him pause. He could feel his pulse jumping. He swallowed down his fear, attempting a brave face for the first time in forever.

He turned the knob. As he opened the door softly he could hear someone speaking. Potter.

“I’m going to kill him!”

“Harry…”

Draco wanted to cry at hearing Hermione’s softly chiding tone. She was awake and speaking. His heart clenched as he finally breathed for the first time in minutes.

“No Hermione. We’ve been letting him get away with acting like this for too long.”

“Harry. It was an accident. I’m sure…”

Draco tapped on the door frame. He pushed the door open further as he peeked in. “May I enter?”

He tried to ignore how his own heart tightened at Hermione’s smile when she saw him. It was just his own wishful thinking, right?

“Of course.” She waved him in, scooching up on the bed. “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, Draco. What are you doing here?” Potter said harshly. “You’ve been perfectly fine ignoring her for a couple of months now.”

Hermione bit her lip and looked away, not wanting to see Draco’s face as he tried to explain his absence from her.

Draco eyed Potter. Ignoring the taunt, he replied as to why he was there right now. “I’m here because I’m Hermione’s husband. They notified me when she was admitted. What happened?” His silver eyes met Hermione’s. The palm of his hand itched, wanting to take her hand in his.

Potter scoffed, but answered. “Ron happened but Hermione won’t tell me _what_ exactly happened.”

“Because I know you Harry. You’re going to go off half-cocked and do something you’ll later regret. Why don’t you go and get something to eat?” Hermione spoke with a calm tone. Harry paused, he knew better than to push Hermione when she got quiet like that. That was her ‘you’re one word away from me hexing you’ tone.

“Fine. I’ll be back though.” He shot a look to Draco before leaving them alone.

Draco waited until Potter had closed the door behind him. “So what did happen?”


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! We've finally reached the end. I never thought that when I started this back in January that I'd still be writing it by Sept. Thank you sooooo much to everyone who has stuck with this since the beginning! I never expected such a response to my little story. All the comments and kudos always brought a smile to my face. I may eventually touch back with more Dramione stories, but for now I seem to have found my passion with Destiel.  
> Love to you all!  
> Gabi  
> <3<3<3

_‘I’ll fucking kill him.’_ That was the response that Hermione had been expecting. That was the same reaction that everyone who had visited her so far had in regards to Ronald. What she hadn’t expected was Draco’s soft worried gaze, his hand unexpectedly covering hers, saying, “Are _you_ okay? What do you need?”

Hermione knew him well enough to know that he was probably seething inside for what Ronald had done. But his focus remained on Hermione. His hand warmed hers sending tingles up her arm as his thumb stroked her wrist. Even after the Healers had sent her home with instructions to take it easy for the next day or so, Draco was there. He stood at the ready by her side to help out however was needed while they were still at St. Mungo’s. Mainly helping her with her jacket and holding doors open. She wasn’t some simpering, weak-willed ninny after all.

Damn it all to Hades. Why did Draco have to go and be like this? He could have ignored the letter St. Mungo’s sent. He could have continued to ignore her for the next five years. But no. He had to write those damn letters and be utterly sweet and caring now.

Finally they arrived back at her apartment. There were several silent moments as they avoided each other’s gaze. Draco glanced around the room, it seemed even emptier than when he had left, though nothing had been moved. His eyes eventually landed on the blood stain marking the wall and carpeting. Even when it got cleaned up the memory of that stain was going to haunt him for years.

He swallowed. He had come so close to losing her. He had let his idiotic pride keep him from being with her. No more. If he had to start over with her again, he was for certain going to try. This was Hermione Granger after all. She was more than worth the effort. And he was a fool if he would let her slip away again. He turned to find her watching him closely. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I’m sorry that I left the way I did.”

“Just not that you did, right?” Hermione desperately needed the confirmation. Perhaps those letters were Blaise pranking her again, even more cruelly than before. If it was, she was definitely going to be hexing certain parts of him then feeding it to Hogwarts Thestrals.

“No.” Draco took a step forward, shaking his head. “At first I left because of what Blaise had done, I left to give you some space to get the potion out of your system.”

“But then you didn’t come back.”

“I figured you would be furious with me for what Blaise had done. And I hated the thought of you being mad at me. I never want that. I wanted you to be happy. You have the most amazing smile, you know, when you’re happy. Did you know that?”

“Why did you leave, Draco?” she asked softly, stepping closer.

“I was a coward. Plain and simple.” Bravely, he reached out and placed his hands first on one shoulder, tentatively, then on the other. “I was scared to death of what I was feeling. For you.”

She narrowed her eyes, then punched him in the chest.

“Ow!” He stepped back, rubbing the spot she had hit. Gaping at her, he asked. “What the hell was that for?”

“You are an absolute idiot, Draco Lucius Malfoy!” She stepped up to him. He backed away far enough that he fell back onto the couch behind him, afraid she would attack him again. Instead she straddled his lap, surprising him, and cupped his pale yet flushed face. “A complete and utter idiot.” She whispered before leaning in to kiss him.

He froze for a millisecond before his lids fell and his arms wrapped themselves around her. His mouth opened under hers, not needing much prompting when her tongue was licking at his lips. She tasted like lemon and honey and all Hermione. His hand cradled the back of her head, fingers sinking into the mass of waves he had come to love.

Her hands had moved down his chest. She smiled against his mouth as she felt his heartbeat race beneath her palm. Pulling back slightly, she said, breathless herself. “Did you really think that it was just the potion that had me acting like that, that night?”

“Uh-?”                                                                      

“Didn’t you know how much I’ve wanted you?” She leaned back on his lap to look at him. This needed to be said face to face. “Didn’t you see how I had fallen for you?”

He blinked and remained silent, mouth slightly open.

Just when the tension between them was about to reach an uncomfortable level, Draco surged up, kissing her passionately. A minute later he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers and whispered into her mouth. “Hermione. Do you know what you’re saying? Because when you say things like that…”

She leaned back further and cupped his cheek. Golden eyes met silver as she spoke. “I’m in love with you, Draco. I know that you don’t enjoy being brave, being a Slytherin and all, but could you be brave for this? For us? Just once.”

He turned his face to kiss her wrist. Taking the hand he placed it over his heart, holding it there. “This only beats for you Hermione. Has for longer than I’m willing to admit.”

Their eyes met. Hermione leaned in to kiss him again, this time there was no stopping to talk, to explain. One kiss led into the next and the next ten. They pressed closer, needing to sink into each other. Draco scooted forward on the edge of the cushion, hooking his arms under his wife, he stood. The kiss was unending as he carried her down the hallway to her bedroom.

They fell into the bed, a tangle of limbs, when they finally broke the kiss to breathe. Draco’s mouth didn’t pause as it moved down to lick at her neck. His nimble fingers began the undo the buttons of her shirt. Draco paused to look down as he spread the material open. Lightly his fingers brushed the top of her breasts. His mouth soon followed the path of skin that was uncovered. Cupping one globe in his hand, his tongue traced the line of her bra before whispering against her skin. “You are so beautiful, Hermione.”

Sliding his hand back up her chest, he cradled her neck, kissing her again. Hermione shifted her leg up, wrapping around his lower back, moaning into the kiss. They soon lost track of everything, as they became more absorbed in each other. Shirts and pants and undergarments communed on the carpeted floor surrounding the bed.

They were both panting heavily now. Draco lay over his wife, his hands linked with hers above her head as he continued to love her mouth. Unconsciously he pressed his erection down, rubbing against her. He groaned when he realized that she was already wet. He hadn’t even touched her yet. Breaking his mouth free, he groaned into her neck. “ _Ugh._ Hermione. We should probably slow down.”

“No.” She shook her head and wound her legs around his waist. She arched upwards, rubbing herself against him. Freeing one of her hands , she ran it through his mess of blond hair. “I don’t want to wait anymore. We’ve wasted enough time.”

He stared down at her wet lips and flushed cheeks. She was truly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Always had been. He kissed her slowly, softly, as his free hand traced down her ribcage. Her breath hitched as his fingers inched between them and began to play with the hot wet silk between her thighs. Her back bowed as he found her bud and teased it. She whimpered. “ _Dra-co._ ”

He smiled at her reaction. Moving his hand once more, he slipped a finger into her. She arched against his hand. He responded in turn, sinking two more digits into her, watching as she worked herself on his hand. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen. Draco’s mouth latched on to her neck as he continued to prepare her.

“Draco.” She whimpered, digging her hands into the cushion of his ass. “Draco. I want you, not just your hands. _Please,_ ” she begged, not at all embarrassed by the level of neediness she felt.

Removing his hand, he shifted himself over her. Placing himself at her entrance, he paused and said. “Look at me Hermione.” She did. “I love you. So much.” He said before sinking into her.

Their race to the finish line was a quick one. They rocked against each other, skin slapping skin, lips connected, as Draco repetitively slid his cock in her, never fully leaving her warmth.

Too soon Hermione was screaming into his shoulder, and Draco following soon after. Neither seem to mind that their first time had gone so quickly. They could take their time later. Draco lay slumped, boneless atop Hermione, feeling bad about squishing her. She didn’t mind though as she ran her hand up and down his back. He was still buried in her, her legs still around him as their hearts slowed in the aftermath of what had just transpired.

Finally, Draco rolled over. He reached to the foot of the bed for a blanket to cover them both. Pulling his wife close, he tucked her into his side, not wanting to let her go ever again.

Draco made a promise to himself right then that he never would.

*****                                                   

 

Ron was eventually found hiding with his brother Charlie in Romania. Everyone involved thought it best to leave him there for the time being.

Hermione moved into Malfoy Manor, easily slipping into Matriarch-in-Training with Narcissa. Lucius came around to her presence slowly, though a few times ‘mudblood’ slipped out during conversations which he immediately apologized for.

Several months after the big move, Draco was attacked in a giant squealing embrace as he stepped into their shared bedroom by his wife with the news that she was pregnant.

They welcomed their firstborn son seven months later.


End file.
